


The Big Black Dog

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:34:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25747489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “How about the short mystery stories that are not-so-short yet so intriguing?” Harry decided.“Oh..Yeah I used to love those stories…”And so they sat together, bundled on the comfortable sofa, while Remus read “The Big Black Dog”.The story from Chapter 6 in Now that I see you.
Kudos: 1





	The Big Black Dog

Black cats, black panthers and black dogs are known as rather ominous creatures, associated often with death and witchcraft, or hounds baying in the night or leopards leaping upon one in the dark. But Madame Kent always assured Faolan, a well-known writer, that black dogs, even ghostly ones, were benevolent creatures who looked after lonely travelers, provided of course that the travelers were well-intentioned and pure hearted.

Faolan had met Madame Kent when he had recently moved into Diagon Alley in the early 1960s, due to his family’s death. She had rooms in the old wing of the Green Dragon, above the pub it hosted, and Faolan was living near the town, only just outside Knockturn Alley.

Faolan, naturally took a liking to the old woman, and visited the Green Dragon more often than the Leaky Cauldron. Madame Kent was an upright, active, seventy year old, and often indulged him with stories of her childhood in the west of England and her grown up years in Wales. She had a lot of adventure at her disposal, ranging from mermaids off the coast of England to tree spirits and fairy glens in the mountains.

Another friend at the Dragon was Mr Lobo, who played the piano every. Evening in the lounge. He was always ready to oblige the writer by playing some old nostalgic songs of his choice which included: ‘September Song’ or ‘I Kiss Your Little Hand, Madame’. After a couple of firewhiskies at the bar, he’d head home, a lumos lit up, because the path to Knockturn Alley was dark and full of shadows, and a gang emerging known as death eaters. Possibly even dangerous werewolves, like Fenrir Greyback. He was usually home by eight. The place then was still something of a wilderness, not the messy tourist destination it has become today.

One day he was invited to a small party being given by the well-known Professor and writer staying at the Dragon: Quentin Trimble. He’d been helping Faolan publish some of his stories too. As Faolan knew the party was starting at eight, he left just as the sun sank in the meadows.

From the beginning of his journey he was aware that he was being followed by a dog, a large, black creature of no particular breed. This did not bother him, as he was used to the both magical and muggle dogs - although most of them being rather scrawny, timid specimens - as he were halfblooded. They had rather barked a lot and he kept their distance.

This dog, taller and larger than most, did not bark at all. He made hardly a sound as he padded on, occasionally looking right and left but never in his direction. And unlike most dogs, he did not make an effort to get close to the man, but Faolan could tell he was different from most dogs, but refrained from making any friendly overtures.

When he got to the pub entrance, he was welcomed in by Madame Kent and her little crup, Huffle, who had been barking furiously at his approach.

“Did you have a dog with you?” She asked. “i thought I saw a large dog accompanying you.”

“You did,” He said, looking annoyed. “It’s gone now. But it doesn’t bother me.”

Madame Kent, however did not attend the party, which was quite a noisy affair. A lot of liquor was consumed, there was some singing and dancing, and Mr Lobo was kept busy at the piano.

It was almost eleven o’clock when he bade goodby at his host and left the party. He had been unsteady on his feet, but the moon had risen on the mountains and he could see his path distinctly, without the need of a lumos.

And there was that dog again!

It loped beside him, sometimes in front, sometimes to his left or right but never completely leaving him; never too far away, never too close. Even when he quickened his pace, he couldn’t catch up with the elusive but ever-present dog.

It looked real enough-a tall black hound, quite at ease in the streets, familiar and yet so unfamiliar, staying away from him and yet so near…

It took him an hour to get home, in the unfamiliarity of the night, but the dog was with him all the way. When he reached his home, however, it had gone.

And he never saw it again.

Yet, for some reason, he couldn’t keep the black dog out of his mind.

* * *

Several months later, he was at the Green Dragon again, having a drink with a couple of new acquaintances one of whom was an auror. The conversation turning to crime and criminals, the auror turned up to me and said, “You are Mr Shafiq, the writer, aren’t you? Do you realize that you had a narrow escape from being waylaid and robbed-possibly even murdered?”

“…I’m afraid I don't understand sir,” Faolan said, surprised and speechless.

“Well, there are two prisoners captured in Azkaban, who were caught while attempting a robbery at Gringotts and they were overheard talking about a plan they had to follow and rob you while you were on the way to this very pub or on your return sometime last year.

“Anyway, they followed you all the way from Knockturn Alley and back again, but you had this large dog with you, and they were reluctant to. Take on both of you at the same time. Very wise of you to keep a dog. Is it a German Shepard or a Mastiff?”

“I don’t keep a dog,” he eventually said, slowly. “but there was one with me that night. A big, black dog. I had never seen it before, never seen it since.”

Mr Lobo had been listening to their conversation. “A spirit guardian.” He said. “We don’t always recognize them, but they are always there.”

* * *


End file.
